From the you-have-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me department comes a news item about a Florida woman who found herself in court for a second time because she hangs her laundry out to dry. Apparently this offends some people and the community in which she lives has an ordinance dictating where the clothes line must be placed. An ordnance that can’t be enforced due to a solar rights law that prevents local ordinances from restricting solar devices, which a clothes line is considered to be. This time around it was a complaint by a contractor building multimillion dollar homes nearby that landed Poppy Madden back in court:
“I’m sure if you bought a $3 million house and your neighbor across the street has purple panties flying in plain visibility, you wouldn’t want her doing that,” said Robert Strauss of Floridian Estate Builders.
Honestly, if I could afford a multimillion dollar home I wouldn’t give a shit if the neighbors were air drying their purple panties as long as they weren’t doing it naked. And even if they were doing it naked I might not mind depending on their relative attractiveness. If I can afford a house like that then I can afford a television set worth staring at more than my neighbor’s laundry.
I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but for growing up in what could be considered a minor urban city (Pontiac, Michigan) the neighborhood I lived in had more than a few clotheslines in the side and back yards of the homes. We even had one that my mother would use every so often. It’s a lot more work and it takes longer, but there is something about line drying clothes that makes it worthwhile for a lot of people.
So I grew up seeing clothes out on the line, including the unmentionables, and perhaps that’s why I don’t understand what the big friggin’ deal is. Grow the hell up, people. It’s not like underwear is a big secret or something.